


Justin/Patric

by katwalking



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 18:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14574777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katwalking/pseuds/katwalking
Summary: Something I was working on for PensMonthly. Never fleshed it out the way I wanted to, but I think it's a tasty bit.





	Justin/Patric

Patric’s nipples are dark and sore looking, not their usual soft, bubblegum pink. 

Justin glances around; no one else is snatching glances as Patric rubs the curve of one dense pectoral muscle, grimacing slightly. 

He puts his head down.

\--

A Penguins game was on television when Justin found out he was being traded for a draft pick, not even a first rounder. He’d barely been able to process the news before his phone exploded with jealousy laced congratulatory texts. 

Patric was traded for James Neal at the 2014 draft. Neal was a top tier player, a proven goal scorer, well liked in the room, if not the hallways of Consol. 

“Totally different situation,” Patric said, grinning, when Justin asked about it. “Geno wasn’t happy, but who is Geno anyway?” Patric had been shirtless at the time, nipples drawn tight. 

Geno still misses Neal in loud and hurtful ways at times but winning a second Stanley Cup goes a long way to cementing new friendships. 

Justin imagines his situation mirrored Daley’s or Hagelin’s, a chance at a fresh start, and Patric’s favored Kessel’s, uprooted rudely from the life you’d carved out. 

\--

Anyway, Justin’s losing the thread. This is about the way Patric’s nipples stay dark and distracting. 

\--

Hagelin snaps Patric across the chest with a precision honed over years of locker rooms. Patric grabs at his chest, hand covering his left nipple. The tops of his cheeks turn red in the seconds before he smacks Hagelin back. 

Justin reaches down and adjusts his dick in his shorts. They’ve been snug lately. He hopes Patric’s okay. It’s just- that probably stung a little. 

\--

“How long are you planning to stare at Horny’s nips?” 

Justin chokes on his mouthful of beer and Olli looks way too smug for someone photographed black out wasted on his balcony for the world to see. “What?” He gasps when he gets his breath back. 

“Yeah, man,” Olli says, pink mouth curved up sweetly, “no one wanted to embarrass you by mentioning it.”

“So good of you to volunteer,” Justin mutters, face flushed hot.”

Olli slaps him on the back. “”Anything for you,man,” then, he looks at Justin expectantly. 

Justin bites the inside of his cheek and weighs his options. Olli is a good bro. Also, Justin knows all about Olli’s insane hero worship of Tanger. 

“His nipples are different,” Justin says, “darker.”

Olli’s brows draw in briefly before his expression clears. “Well, yeah. It's almost his time.”

“His time?” Justin asks, but Olli is already turning back to the movie paused on the television. 

“Just ask him about it,” Olli says. “He might let you help if he hasn't already drafted Hags.”

\--

Justin doesn't get to ask. Patric pulls him into a little storage closet off one of the exam rooms. There’s a medicinal smell in the air and bandage wraps on the shelves. 

“Umm,” Justin says. 

Patric grins at him, teeth white in the dim light. “I heard you're worried about me.”

“I wasn't worried,” Justin says, “more like...concerned.” Ironically, Patric’s wearing a shirt at the moment, a soft grey t-shirt to go with his Pens sweats. 

“Such a nice boy,” Patric says. He cups a hand over his pec and Justin can’t help the way his eyes drop. “I've been a little sore lately,” Patric shrugs as if to say, “what can you do?” and Justin is so confused. 

“What-” Justin starts, but then Patric grabs Justin’s hands and places them on his chest. 

“You want to help me out, kiss it better?” Patric leans his back against the door and, yeah, Justin wants that. 

He strokes his thumbs gently across the swell of Patric’s pecs just edging his nipples and Patric shivers. 

“I'm just going to,” Justin says and drops his hands to the hem of Patric's t-shirt. Patric lifts his arms when Justin pulls the soft cloth over his head. 

There’s a deep berry color to Patric’s nipples, edging toward purple. He looks bruised or maybe like someone has been sucking on his nipples. Maybe Hagelin, Justin thinks, remembering what Olli said. 

Justin bends down to press a gentle kiss to one tempting nipple and Patric puts his hands in Justin’s hair, fingers tugging. 

It’s so easy for Justin to open his mouth and taste the soft skin beneath his lips. 

In the past, Justin’s had girlfriends who melted when he sucked their nipples, thighs falling open, hips rolling up, gasps escaping from soft lips. Patric’s no different in this respect. He snugs up against Justin, hips restless, seeking pressure on his cock. 

Justin gives Patric’s nipple a few luscious sucks and Patric’s hips hitch against him. 

“Yeah,” Patric says. He directs Justin’s mouth to his other nipple and Justin nuzzles it before latching on. 

Sweet. Sweet is the word Justin would use to describe the sounds Patric’s making. Justin wraps his arms around Patric’s waist and settles in. 

His lips feel sore and swollen by the time Patric grits out, “Fuck,” and comes, shuddering, inside his sweat pants. 

“Ow,” Patric says, breathless, when Justin keeps sucking. “Let me, let me,” Patric says and pushes Justin back to drop to his knees. 

When they leave the closet, Patric’s mouth is as red as Justin’s.


End file.
